Sordid
by Khaz-Calowiel
Summary: Sordid: dulcis caedes"- Directly translated from Latin is Sordid: sweet killing. Through demon POV. What more need be said except 'Lowly Lord Loss has nothing on Trajektorie' Trajektorie OC Rated M for macarbe themes, not for those high in morality
1. Prologue

There was nothing my prey could do as I slithered out of my human form, my slimy lions paws hitting the ground before me, my arched back cracking as the spines slid out, followed by the strange sideways unfurling of my skeletal wings. My eyes narrowed, their diagonal slit pupils contrasting against the sickly, evil yellow.

My jaws parted, revealing needle like spines, and a black, slug-like pointed tongue. My teeth had an eerie shade of green to them, illustrating the smell that wafted on my breath. The human shivered before me, making a credible attempt to be calm in the face of it's preferably-not-immediate death. I flared the tendril like feathers that framed my neck and growled, a small gurgle the evidence of my hunger for warm blood. Unsheathing my claws, I bent to that will...


	2. Chapter I

**The prologue left no room for AN or Disclosure, so Chapter One will have to suffice.  
Hey, I hope you all liked the Prologue. Short- but sets the scene. There shall be a pic of Trajektorie up on my profile soon, and I'll tell you in the AN when it's there. **

**Just so you know, because I'm only going to say it once- I DO NOT own Demonata. That brilliance goes to Darren Shan and Darren Shan alone. I only own Trajektorie and his particular realm.**

**Enjoy. Trajektorie did.**

* * *

I left what remained of the bones of the unfortunate human disciple on the spongy floor of my domain. I had a world to myself, no Master, no Servants, free to roam and kill as I pleased. For a demon, life didn't get much better. I stretched, arching forward like the semi-cat I was. Yawning, I paced about, trying to decide if I was hungry, tired or bored.  
I'd just eaten, and the evening was still young, so I settled upon my haunches, and channeled my magic into the opening of a window. The invisible pieces of the window whispered to me, as they always did when I manipulated them, welcoming my majestic presence with their soothing powerful chorus; "_Trajektorie._"

That was my name.

Trajektorie.

And the pieces knew it as I bent their will into a window to another realm in the universes of the demonata and humans.  
I was afraid of no-one and nothing. Not even the supposed up-and-coming 'Shadow'. I would not bend to the will of death. I was above death- it could not reach me in my cavern of safety. Pausing my window building, I scanned the area, my favourite section of this delectable place.  
Skeletons of my prey littered the ground. Some demons, usually small ones, but mostly they were the mangled corpses of humans. I'd left their flesh intact in places; their twisted hands or faces distorted in lengthy pain and terror made beautiful artwork. They were almost trophies of all the slow, agonising, torturous deaths I had administered.  
They were kept intact by the warm mist that swirled over the face of my domain, turning the blood stained, leathery ground to a sponge like consistency that retained the moisture form the blood and other bodily fluids secreted by the dying. The mist carried the smells of the creatures I dragged here, and blocked out the red-hued sun, shrouding this place in a red humming glow. There was an eerie dripping sound, as blood and condensed mist fell from the branches of the rotting skeletal trees that dotted the landscape. The only breaks in the sound were the occasional sickening crunches as the gnarled branches gave in to the moisture and snapped off, falling to the earth below. That, and the screams.

Enticed by the memories, I returned to my window, freshly eager to reach the human realm. While it formed, I had time to think. Where was I going this time? I'd already tired out primary schools and community health centres in the human world. There was no chase in the victims from a hospital. But I'd caught a phrase in the mindless chatter of the part of the human world I'd last visited. One that had brought a tone of pity to the man who had foolishly mentioned it's voice.

Orphanage.

That sounded like decent a destination.


	3. Chapter II

**Sorry, I know the chapters are short and really really bad, But this is kind've experimental. I don't quite know where this story is going and I'm probably hoping just as much as you that it's going to get better! Lol!**

**I'll understand if you ditch this story. But I'm going to continue to write it and hope it develops a plotline!**

* * *

The window opened. I slunk through with all the grace and macabre presence of a demon lord. Unlike shopping centres and public streets, people did not scatter here. Snotty kids of every shape and size stood, gaping at me, torn between numbing horror and a morbid fascination. I surveyed the group, daring a child to split off with my eyes. Then it would be mine.

I raked my claws on the earth and flared my nostrils. A few kids trembled. Good. One would surely crack. I opened my jaws and growled softly, wafting my rancid breath across the group, ruffling hair and causing their little eyes to water.  
That was it for one boy. The child who had been standing close enough to see the chunks of my last feed between my teeth ran, screeching, dragging half the other children with him.  
As I took my first step, the rest made a beeline for the building. I roared, the smell of their fear exciting me. My roar was cut short by an abnormality. A singular girl, stood, unphased by my presence. She stared at me as though I were simply a rain cloud, threatening her walk home.

I stopped, pacing right up to the girl. I stood over her, bloody drool dripping from my jaws onto her shoulders. She blinked as the hot drool coated her plain gray dress, ruining the white lace on the sleeves, but otherwise did not move from her stance. I roared, her dark hair flicking back as my hot breath blasted her in the face. She crinkled up her nose; her pale blue eyes twisted with disgust, and reached out one stubby finger to touch my shoulder. I shrugged away, determined not to let this child touch me, but her fingernail buried itself beneath my hard leather skin, and she began to mutter in Latin.

I bellowed, and tried to spring away from her, but it was as if she held me there by the tip of her finger. I lashed out with my tail, aiming to sever her head from her shoulders, but my tail was deflected by some unseen force. Her eyes had rolled back in their sockets, revealing the whites, and she trembled as she spoke. I knew that I would perish if I stayed in this realm, but I could not separate myself from the girl.  
I was left with one option.

With a hiss, I clamped my jaws down on her shoulder and leapt back through the portal, dripping her blood as I did. Her screams rung in the air long after the portal had disassembled.


	4. Chapter III

Once through the portal, I slammed the girl onto the spongy ground of my home before me, her blood like acid in my mouth- not sweet like it normally should be.  
She righted herself, and I saw the wound I had made on her shoulder. The skin around it rippled, and thin strands of flesh leapt up and knitted themselves back together. She whimpered and writhed as it did so. Despite the peculiar healing she was undertaking, I felt a small burst of triumph and smirked at her pain. She eyed me viciously, when she could see again, and I growled, low in my throat in response. She looked up at me with a snarl, and began to turn away.  
How dare she turn her back on me!  
I leapt forward, burying my claws in her back. She screamed as I slashed along the length of her small form, opening up four gashes that immediately flowed with blood. The blood poured and she shrieked, crumpling to the ground, shuddering. She began to heave violently as blood haemorrhaged her lungs. I padded forward, ready to finish her, when she flung up one hand and placed it on my shoulder. My roar echoed along the plain as white hot pain flooded my system. I felt as if she had replicated the gashes upon my back.  
When it was over, we both stood, completely unharmed save for the memory of the formidable pain, seared into our being.  
'_What is your name, odd child?' _I spoke directly into her mind. It may have killed her, as for me to touch her mind in this fashion would send a mere human to their deaths. However I felt that this child would survive my contact. Not that I cared.  
As it was, she winced and clutched at her head.  
"Morrigu" She replied, her voice innocent, but with all the power of the goddess she received her name from.  
I chuckled, and the ground around us bubbled blood as it shook.  
_"A fitting name for so vile a girl"  
_When the pain passed, she hissed at me.  
"_We find ourselves in a stalemate, Morrigu" _I pondered to her.  
"_I cannot kill you, as much as it would please me. And you cannot kill me." _This was truly remarkable. The other demon lords must never hear of this.  
"Says who I cannot kill you? I have not even tried" She cried at me, holding what remained of her bloodstained dress to her.  
"_You cannot kill me child, for I cannot die." _I said simply.  
She scratched her head, trying to clear her head of the pain.  
"Do not talk to me, beast. You hurt my head." She said, and spun, following the sounds of the running water into the fog.  
Her back was turned to me, and I instinctively bristled. But I knew that another attack was pointless. I lay down, ripping one of the pieces of my 'artwork' apart to gnaw on the bones. She would return, there was nowhere for her to go. She could not open a window without my help. For now, we could not harm each other, and, until I found a means of stripping her flesh from her bones, I was stuck with her.


End file.
